


Plausible

by lextenou



Category: Kim Possible (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, POV First Person, Sparring as Therapy, Stream of Consciousness, Trying To Make Decisions With the Appropriate Head
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 10:12:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lextenou/pseuds/lextenou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shego has a revelation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Those Accursed Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Rated for final chapter.

When I actually stop to think about it, I know the problem.

It's those eyes.

They cut through me, through my defenses, as though they didn't exist. They pin me with my need, drawing my emotion from the depths of my soul as I stand, dumbfounded, forced motionless at the force of those eyes. My fists hang useless before me as she watches me steadily.

That woman...with those eyes.

If she was any other woman, it wouldn't be nearly as difficult.

But she wasn't.

She is that woman.

And those eyes...they haunt my dreams still.

The way they lanced through me just before I...oh, God.

The memory of those eyes will never leave me. My life will be spent in servitude to those eyes, never knowing what it is to be independent. She doesn't know the power she wields over me.

She crooks a finger and I fall to my knees. If she would but ask...I would walk away from my life, into an uncertain future with her. Without a thought, I would leave all I had ever known, in order to be near her.

Anything to see her smile light up those eyes.

I never thought I would be thinking of this. We are enemies...rivals...

I've tried to kill her on multiple occasions. Somehow, though...

Those eyes always told me that I would fail. And I rejoiced in that. Reveled in it. Hell, everytime I saw that look in those eyes, I nearly shouted my joy to the heavens.

She watches me warily when we circle each other. Never giving away her thoughts to anyone...anyone other than me.

I don't know how I am able to know her thoughts in the way I do. I just know that while I drown in the depths of those eyes, I know her thoughts. Each flicker of emotion is seen, each twitch of intent is broadcast. I know her mind, her heart, because they shine through those eyes.

And right now, they're saying they want me. I can't help but gasp sharply, my breath rasping loudly in my throat as the raw passion that blazes within her burns through her defenses for a scant instant.

It's hidden again. I know I didn't imagine it. I couldn't have.

Those eyes said she wants me.

Those eyes don't lie.

I lower my arms and spread my hands in a move I never thought I'd make. I show her my palms, hoping that she recognizes that I am no longer a threat. Blood pounds in my head as she narrows those eyes, watching me carefully. She's probably trying to figure out what trap I have set up. That wounds me. Didn't we agree, when we started these little spats, no tricks, no traps? Does she really think so little of me?

Have I done anything to inspire her confidence? Before depression can take me, I speak quickly, forcefully.

"We should talk." My voice is serious, echoing quietly in the cavernous room that rang with the sound of our battle just scant seconds before.

She takes a step back, not lowering her guard fully. If I was her, I might have decapitated me by now, under normal circumstances. But that look...those eyes don't lie. And we promised each other.

"So talk."

Years of fighting has left us scarred. Banter that used to come easily to us had gone by the wayside for favor of simple and straighforward battles. Maybe we had grown weary of the pretense, seeking instead the simple truth that silence afforded. Maybe we didn't want to sully our sparring matches with tawdry memories of who we used to be. I pushed those thoughts away.

"I don't know why I'm still fighting you after all this time." And honestly, I don't. Why did I accept her offer that day?

Her lip quirks slightly. "Neither do I. After your boss was put away for that last attack, I thought we had heard the last of you."

I watch her for a long moment, trying to decide if that had truly been a wistful hope under those layers of battle hardened resolve. I can't afford this weakness right now. The raw hunger that had flashed in those eyes strengthen me enough to force out the next words.

"I can't stay away from you." The words were easier to get out than I thought. Maybe there was less to these emotional talks than all those books blathered on about.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Guess not.

I sigh heavily and walk over to a convenient rock, the slightly rounded top at just the right height for me to sit and rest.

"What does it mean?" I smile mirthlessly. I have no idea what I am doing. "Just what it sounds like, cupcake. I've tried to stay away from you. I can't. I always seem to come back to you." I lower my gaze. I can't believe I am actually saying this. What happened to me?

She stares at me, those eyes watching me in disbelief. I know this, because I look up at her.

That's when I knew.

I have to stay close to her. I would never be able to wander far from her. Those eyes that haunt my dreams and fill my days are watching me, binding me to her with an openly curious gaze.

I knew then that I am in love with her. Had been for a long time. Maybe this was the only way I'd ever get it out, and maybe that would help.

Maybe.

I don't wait for her to say anything. I stare at her shoes. I could see the rest of her in my peripheral vision. She stares at me openly now, her defenses wavering even further.

"You know, seeing you here, I think I've just figured out why I've never been able to stay away from you, even as I wanted nothing more than to run as far from you as I could." My stare remained firmly on her shoes. I don't dare look up. "It's because I'm in love with you."

Silence rang loudly in the cavernous room. It presses in on me from all sides. It's getting really claustrophobic in here as I feel the room shrink around me. The only sound is her constant, steady breathing, and my heart in my ears.

I stand abruptly. Enough of this. I never agreed to this.

"I have to go."

I turn. She had fallen back into her fighting stance by the time I was turning my back to her. I laugh bitterly to see that. "Good bye, Kim Possible. I may not be able to...but I have to try..."

I raise my deadened gaze to the exit that I now face.

My words are a scant whisper, no longer forceful.

"To stay away from you..."

I walk out. As far as I know, Kim remained in her battle stance until long after I left, expecting an ambush that had already come and gone.


	2. Inopportune Cravings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kim thinks about Shego.

It was those eyes again.

Those goddamn eyes.

I could go the rest of my life never looking into those eyes again and I would be ecstatic. 

And majorly depressed.

I stared into the mirror, at my own eyes, a pale reflection of the eyes that watched me hungrily when I touched myself, my mind's eye supplying that which could never be.

It had been three weeks since I'd seen those eyes in person. At night, they haunted my dreams. While I was awake, they infected my thoughts. 

A flash of dark hair forced my head to whip around, hoping desperately for it to be her, staring at me with that insufferable smirk on her face, mischief twinkling in the depths of those eyes.

A phantom, brought on by one too many sleep deprived nights.

I closed my eyes and groaned, my head thudding solidly against the cool glass of the mirror.

I couldn't continue like this. Half-remembered dreams of gentle hands caressing my naked skin almost forced a groan from my lips as my body heated.

As it had every time we fought.

So few were able to offer me sufficient challenge single handed.

She was one of them. The best of them, unenhanced by cybernetics or mystical amulets. She, with her burning touch, was able to do what no other could; make me vulnerable.

If she knew...

I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for her. Countless times, we've fought. She's challenged me, making me work for my victories. For each, she made me pay in sweat...tears...heartache. She's pushed me harder and farther than any other.

And through it all, those eyes watched me. I don't think she realized that I knew. I had seen the way her ravenous eyes swept my trim frame, the raw hunger in those eyes leaving me weak with need.

I craved her.

I think that's why I wasn't averse to continuing to fight her after Drakken was finally placed in a jail that she couldn't break him out of.

Or rather, that she didn't want to break him out of. I'm starting to believe that, when she wants to, she can do anything. 

I don't know what happened between them, and right now, I only care in as much as it affects her and turns those wondrous eyes sad.

I suppose they had a falling out. Either that, or she finally grew tired of his inept grandiose nature.

Doesn't matter. 

What matters is that for about four months, we met every week and beat our frustrations out on each other. 

Sounds like such a healthy basis for a relationship.

The first time was an accident. I wasn't supposed to be there. It was my day off. One that had been forced on me by insistent and meddling parents. 

I'm grateful to them now.

Otherwise, I never would have been in that abandoned warehouse.

She was destroying some boxes when I arrived. I didn't announce my presence for a few minutes. She was such a welcome sight after my aimless wanderings, I stood and stared, memorizing her.

She used her bare hands, the soft skin being gouged by the splintering wood and old nails. She was going to need a tetanus shot.

"Hey!" My voice carried easily through the warehouse. She spun, her fists clenched as trickles of blood seeped over her hands.

She stared at me for a long moment, those eyes cold and distant. Untrusting.

"Why don't you take out your issues on someone who can hit back?"

The way her eyes lit up...God, I wish I could see that again. She padded over to me, her face blank.

She sank into her fighting stance, her fists raised.

I smiled.

The first time was hard and fast, a release of emotion kept bottled up too long. I would remember her grunts and groans later that night as I lay in my lonely bed.

As we fought, we eventually reached an impasse. We had been grappling with each other, her strong svelte frame pinning me to the wall, the ground...pressing her firm body against my own. We stared into each other's eyes for long moments, our movements half hearted but still violently forcing our bodies together. 

I pinned her curvaceous frame to the floor, the lips that alternated taunting and tempting me scant inches from my own. 

I resisted the urge to claim those lips by pushing up and away from her, a wide grin splitting my face.

When in doubt, grin like mad.

She watched me warily.

"That was fun."

A small smile quirked her lips, igniting humor in the depths of those eyes.

"Yeah. It was." She eyed me carefully, weighing her next words carefully. "Next week?"

I'm sure my face lit up like a damned Christmas tree. I hate that my emotions are so easily broadcast when I'm talking to her. I don't want her knowing all that.

"Same place, nine o'clock?"

She looked at me for a long moment. "No tricks."

I stared back. "No traps."

"Just fighting."

"Right."

She smiled widely and extended a hand. "Deal."

I shook her hand, bits of dried blood sloughing from the hands that I dreamt of touching me.

"Deal."

The next week was slow, almost languorous. If we hadn't been trying to hurt each other, I would have sworn we were seducing each other. 

Maybe we were. 

Our days together quickly became my guilty pleasure. It sustained me through the rest of the week. I found myself changing plans, shunting missions to GJ, and just all around rearranging my life so I could have my day off every week. It should have frightened me, but I was so busy not concentrating on the meaning of it all, that I totally forgot to worry about it.

Sometimes, when we fought, I couldn't help but to stare at her. My hunger must have been evident. Either she didn't notice, didn't care, or ignored it. I don't know.

I would let my eyes memorize the curve of her hip, the tensing and relaxing of her muscles... I had the bonus of getting to know the way her muscles felt under my hands. I remember distinctly one bout where we ended up on the floor. She had my hands occupied in a fight for the upper hand. We were so intent on that struggle that we forgot to watch were we were going. I tripped, my hands releasing hers as I fell backwards. My hands clutched at her shoulders as I landed, hard, on my back.

I stared up at her for a long moment after we landed. She hovered over me, having been brought down with me. Her breathing came hard and fast as she stared right back at me. I was intensely aware of her thigh pressed tightly against me, and my own thigh, wedged solidly between hers. I could feel the blush beginning on my cheeks as I felt the tense muscle beneath my hands.

I completely forgot about the pain.

She leapt up from me, then, and my body screamed in protest. She backed away, smirking. 

I held my breath, expecting some sort of cutting, scathing comment. Instead...she waited for me to rise, then attacked me again. Our fight continued unabated until we called it quits.

Now that I'm older, in college...it's harder. I've grown out of my teen immortality. I am well aware that I can die doing the things I do so effortlessly. These fights stretch into eternity, drawing me into a futile effort to protect nameless, faceless masses, none knowing who I am, what I do so they can live in peace.

Each day, I wake up, alone, knowing that I will spend the day as I have every other before it; average, going about my daily routine until someone cries out for help. Then, I swing into action and save them. It's what I do. I risk my life and health for others because I can't see a life where I didn't. It's what makes me who I am. 

Maybe that's what makes it so sweet...being around Shego, that is. The knowledge that life, health, is fleeting...it makes it precious. A thing to be savored...reveled in. It makes me crave her with a ferocity that scares me.

I wonder if she's realized that yet?


	3. Maturing into Mortality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kim thinks about life and death. And Shego.

I don't know exactly when the first time was that I recognized the futility of who I am.

I fight for the greater good. It's what I'm good at. I help others when they ask. I'm Kim Possible. I can do anything.

Except...

I used to be really...perky, I guess, is the only word for it. I wasn't necessarily happy, but I was energetic. Confident. 

Consumed with hubris, I suppose. 

It wasn't a single great trauma that caused my maturity. It was a conglomeration of events, the bringing together of everything. It's hard to recognize what can happen when someone is a hero. 

You put yourself on the line, day after day. You live minute by minute, never knowing if this is the day your arch nemesis is going to hatch the plan that will kill you. It's dangerous to make plans to go to see the latest movie, because you might be called away to the Amazon at the last minute. Nobody wants the villagers to be flooded out, after all.

You can't take credit for what you've done, no matter how much you may want to. That would be egotistical, and heroes aren't egotistical. Villains are.

You have to live in the moment, because you don't know if you have a future.

Mortality takes on a new meaning when there is no such thing as tomorrow.

As I grew older, I began to realize that. I started withdrawing some. I would go through bouts of intense socialization, never home except to sleep and eat, followed by extreme solitude. I barely ate, and slept much of my day away. I would travel to the Amazon, Burma, any untamed locale I could. While there, I would turn the Kimunicator off. 

I would swing from tree to tree like Monkey Fist. Find a stick and knock random balls about, like Duff Killigan. 

I even tried my hand at odd bits of chemistry.

Nothing made me feel better.

Somehow, though...I know it would lead to her.

Everything always did.

It wasn't long before my premonition became fact. 

I had been aimlessly wandering through Middleton instead of a jungle, for once. Leaping from rooftop to rooftop, like some sort of demented Batman wannabe. That night, my parents had insisted I go out for a movie. I gave in to their demands and left the house, wandering my usual route. I realized where I was when I heard boxes being smashed and wood broken, telltale signs of property destruction. 

With a sigh, I leapt into the warehouse, ready to swing into action and see if my hero status could withstand some petty thugs.

Imagine my surprise when it was no petty thug, but a long missed figure in black and green. A whisper, her name, escaped my lips. A benediction, maybe. 

I stepped forward, not daring to dream that I was seeing what I thought I was. After so long, was she truly here?

My hand reached out, almost of it's own volition. I looked at it as though I had never seen it before, it's motion foreign to me.

I looked at her back as she vented her frustrations. The svelte frame effectively crushed the boxes, the ease with which she reduced them to so much dust leaving me inexplicably weak.

Why was she able to make me feel like this?


	4. Inexplicable Attraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shego's thoughts.

What is it about that damned girl that makes me so crazy? 

Ever since I first saw her, standing tall and proud, her hair falling over her shoulders in a negligent display of teenage beauty, I haven't been able to get her out of my thoughts.

Granted, most of the time, my thoughts tended toward the violent.

Graphically, disturbingly violent. 

I shudder to think of those things happening to her now. I spend my time thinking of her as I so rarely did before. Dreaming of her, imagining what life could be if we weren't...weren't who we are.

I dream of the mundane. Walks in a park, going out on a date where we'd hold hands, even dinner with her parents.

God...that would go over well. Hello, Dr. Possible, yes, I am the woman who's been trying to kill your daughter for most of the last decade. Meatloaf? Sounds wonderful.

Fantastic. Now I now I'm going insane.

It's all her fault. I was never like this before I met her. I was a perfectly normal...ok, maybe not totally normal. It's not everyday that a woman with flaming hands and vampirically pale skin shows up. 

Damned meteor. 

My life would be so much easier if that meteor had just passed by. Or even just landed someplace else. I would probably still be at home, beating the hell out of my brothers for being such backwards imbeciles.

...Or maybe I would have left. Gone to make my way in the world, with only my good looks to pave the way. 

Heh.

It doesn't matter what might have been. Right now, I have to deal with what is. 

And what is, is a very angry redhead demanding to know why I ditched her. I'm having some trouble blocking her, but I'm not really trying very hard. 

She keeps talking but none of it is making sense. Something about her brothers and her bedroom door. Oh, my...apparently her brothers set up a camera in the shower she uses. 

I wonder how much they'd charge for that. 

She nearly clips my head with her next punch. All the sounds I'm making are grunts as I dodge and she lands a blow here and there.

What the hell does the fact that her grandmother is coming to visit have anything to do with me?

I'm blinking slowly as I try to inhale. Apparently her last kick connected just right to knock me on my ass. 

Fabulous. Just what I wanted. 

She's hovering over me now. 

Just what I needed. Whoop de freaking doo.

She's touching my side. That's not exactly helpful in helping me breathe normally, Kimmie. 

Holy...are those tears? Is she crying? 

I'm sure that if I entered a dockside bar and spewed the curses that fill my mind, the sailors there would learn new words.

I manage to finally draw a full breath. Goddamn. 

Hanging out with Kim tends to degrade my vocabulary. Yet another reason for me to stay away from her. I like sounding literate and smart.

Dammit, Kim. Just being in the same room is turning me into as much of a blithering idiot as my brothers. 

I'm breathing now, Kimmie. You can stop crying. And take your hand off my stomach.

No, don't talk. Don't tell me that...I don't need to hear about the way you've been. I can't hear this, I can't care about this, I need to get past this because you are everything I cannot allow into my life. You'd...you destroy me. I haven't even...you're killing me, here, Kimmie.

Stop crying, Kimmie...please...

Kimmie...don't kiss me...if you did that I'd never be able to-

My name is Shego. I have four idiot brothers, and one former idiot boss. For years, under the orders of said idiot boss, I tried, repeatedly, to kill Kim Possible. I am now unemployed, but I have a decent apartment as long as my savings hold out. I'm in love with Kim Possible. 

The same Kim Possible who put away my former boss, leaving me unemployed. 

The same Kim Possible who I've tried, innumerable times, to kill.

The same Kim Possible who is kissing the hell out of me and making me forget about all the reasons why this is exactly what I don't need.

My life is now over. I'd prefer a wake.


	5. Believe for the Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kimmie's thoughts during the actions of the last chapter.

She doesn't believe me.

I've spent the last week tearing Middleton apart to find her, and when I do find her, she doesn't believe me.

Figures.

Why should she believe me? I've never given her a hint of what I've said. I never so much as flirted with her.

Instead, I tried to capture and incarcerate her.

...That sounds kinky in ways I never would have thought of before her.

This last month has been a living hell. I can't take it any more. I need her in my life, or I need her out, I don't care which.

Ok, that's a lie. I do care. I want her with me. I want to be with her. I don't want to go back to the loneliness. Not when I know I could have so much more with her.

I could beg her to believe me. But that would be pathetic.

I could threaten her. But that wouldn't exactly inspire the feelings I'm shooting for, here.

Looks like the direct approach it is, then.

Oh, God...her lips. I don't care what happens to me now, I've tasted the sweetness of her kiss. I know what it is to experience bliss.

She's not pushing me away.

She's not pushing me away at all.

She's pulling me closer. Oh, my God, she's holding me. She's holding me and kissing me.

I can die happy.

It's strange. I tried to forget her. I truly did. I spent my time trying to convince myself that I...I didn't feel what I thought I might. That what she had said didn't mean a thing to me, hadn't made me immediately go home and touch myself, only to feel dirty and shamed for getting off on her love confession. I didn't even get a chance to say anything. By the time I recovered, she had fled. I didn't know where she had gone, and I never had any way of getting in touch with her.

But she's here now.

Kissing me.

The press of her lips against me washes me clean of the pain I've been carrying for so long, cleansing my soul of the dark stain that not knowing her love left.

This eternal moment I'm living in is one that I've been dreaming of since I've become aware. So little of what I know applies to this situation that I'm half convinced I need lessons before I get my toaster.

She pulls away from me and I open my eyes. So many colors had been filling my vision that I didn't even realize I had closed my eyes. Such is the way she affects me. She takes me so far out that I don't even get a chance to wave goodbye to my sanity.

I would curse her, but she makes me feel too good.


	6. Dreaming Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts during certain actions.

I've been here for so long I don't remember another way of being.

Excruciating desire burns along my nerves and I don't know the last time I seriously felt as though I would die if the stimulation continued. I'm damn sure I'm gonna die if she stops.

She's running her tongue over the side of my neck and I hear someone moan. Is that me? Have I become so base, so animalistic-

Oh dear God, she's put her hand in my pants.

Houston, we have lift-off.

I'm whimpering openly against her shoulder and neck, her fingers scraping against my sensitive bits. I can't imagine how she could possibly make it feel any-

Holy blessed Mother of God.

I appear to be finding religion. Strange, how that should happen now, when I have the hand of the woman I love down my pants while leaning against my bedroom wall.

Her finger is drawing circles around my clit, stirring my mind into hyper aroused mush with each swipe of her lightly callused fingertip. I can't feel the wall behind me anymore. Oh...it's because I'm pushing my breasts against her as much as I'm able to.

She's thrusting her hips against me. When did I wrap my legs around her? She's pushing hard against me, crushing me against the wall. I didn't realize she was so passionate. Not surprising, though.

I can feel a sharp pain on my neck. What is that?

Oh. It's her teeth.

Sweet Jesus, she feels good.

I don't want this to end. I want to stay here, in her arms, pressed against my bedroom wall, my cries muffled by her kisses as she draws me closer to exploding.

Mmm...imagine...just after this, I get to touch her. I can hardly wait to bury my tongue in her wet heat, drawing my sustenance from her as she thrashes against me.

Her hand grisp my hips strongly as she thrusts against me at an angle just different enough to make me toss my head back, exposing my neck to her. I feel the nipping at the column of my throat as the cries work to break free. Her hand rises from my hip to clamp over my mouth, her strong fingers stifling my loud cries.

My brain is thoroughly fried, so completely gone at this point that I'm amazed I can still form words. I doubt they're intelligible. I'm speaking in generic feelings now. The way her hips are going to leave a bruise. The way her hand is almost too tight, how it could suffocate me if it was a little higher. The way her butt is flexing as she pushes against me.

I don't want to wake up.


End file.
